Page 95 of Winning Brynn

I sit back on my heels, close enough that I’ll be able to grab Salem if there’s a problem but far enough away to not crowd them, and watch their interaction with interest.

Issy whispers quiet reassurances, stroking her hand over Salem’s hair. "It's okay, sweetheart,” she coos, her voice so gentle, her movements slow and considered.

I’ve never seen this side of Issy, but I like it.

Maybe she’s more maternal than she thinks she is. She’s certainly behaving that way. And Salem’s fussing has calmed somewhat, though she’s eyeing Issy with uncertainty, and her back is beginning to arch as if trying to put space between them.

"Brynn!" The urgency in Leo's voice has my head snapping in his direction. It also startles Salem, who starts to cry.

He stands halfway between the kitchen and the living area, still wet from the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. The kaleidoscopic light from the sinking sun catches on his irises, lighting up the pure, unadulterated panic blazing within them.

“Leo,” Issy gasps, the sound ragged and laced with fear.

It doesn’t make sense, the way they’re both looking at each other right now: Leo with a dangerous fury, Issy with contrite trepidation. The tension, the restlessness of the atmosphere, the shift in the air…I can’t explain any of it, yet I feel it like a thousand daggers piercing into my skin.

"Give Brynn the baby, Bella." Leo's tone is tighter than I've ever heard it, as if it's a struggle to get the words out. He stands like a warrior, his teeth clenched, gaze unwavering on his daughter. He doesn't even blink.

Bella?

Did he call her Bella?

"Give Brynn the fucking baby!" Leo roars.

I turn to my friend, who’s looking down at Salem with tears welling in her eyes. "Issy, can you just give me the baby, please?" I ask gently, heart rattling against my ribcage.

She doesn’t move.

“Issy?” I whisper.

She raises her harrowing, pleading gaze to mine, her hands tightening around Salem. “Please don’t make me give her back.”

"Why?" I whisper, though she doesn’t need to answer.

I already know.

The truth hits me like a nuclear bomb, launching at me from the shadows as the afternoon light dims around us.

“You know each other, don’t you?”

Salem continues to wail, her sharp cries ringing out through the vast room that used to feel like home to me. All the while, her father stares at me with wild, unblinking eyes.

“Leo?” So many questions hang in that single whispered word.

He flinches, his features collapsing for barely a second, but it’s all I need. Just like Issy, he doesn’t say anything. But I guess he doesn’t need to either. The truth is written all over their faces.

And in the matching cerulean blue of Issy's and Salem’s eyes.

Chapter Thirty-one

Leo

Brynn's face drains ofcolor. Her previously golden skin fades to ghostly white as she tumbles back on her heels, landing on the rug surrounded by Salem’s toys. She whimpers, and my heart breaks.

I should go to her, but I can’t.

I’m frozen.

Imprisoned within a cyclone of sheer panic, questions whirl in my head like a windstorm.

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